Unknown Victory
by Diary
Summary: Re-posted. Warning: Contains semi-explicit sexual content. Mello has sex at age nineteen. Complete.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

...

Mello has sex at age nineteen.

The world is ending, and he thinks all the murders he's committed, all the lives he's ruined, have sealed his fate. Premarital sex won't keep a person out of heaven, a place he's not going anyways.

He tells Matt where he's going, and Matt gives him a wary looks and asks why.

After he matter-of-factly informs Matt of his goal, the redhead shakes his head, smiling wryly. He tosses Mello a small box of condoms with a tube of lubricant and tells him not to go there, that it's too dangerous. Near's eighteen, he says, go to him.

It's not a suggestion Mello reacts well to, but Matt points out Mello isn't looking for a relationship, and the only reasons Mello would have to feel guilty are null. Near isn't underage, and whether Mello believes it or not, Near is interested in sex. He's never had any, but he's interested. He'll consent, Matt says, sure of himself.

Matt won't let it go, and Mello is determined he will have sex before he dies. Dying a virgin won't save him from God's judgement.

He goes to Near's headquarters, unarmed, and stands outside the building. The doors open, and Halle frisks him, then, leads him to Near.

After she's gone, he informs Near he wants to have sex.

With me, Near inquires.

You'll do, Mello answers, slouching against a wall. Matt is freaked I'll get hurt if I go to-

That's enough for Near, and he stands, gently pushing his building blocks aside. Walking over, he holds his hand out for Mello. Grimacing in distaste, Mello takes it.

They go to someone's room. It's not Near's; the bed is adult-sized, and Near still sleeps in a toddler's bed.

Is Mello interested in men, Near inquires, climbing up on the bed.

I just want to have sex, Mello answers. I don't really know what my type is.

Near is smart enough not to reply, but Mello can see from the expression on his face that this is another thing Near has won at. Near knows what his type his, whether he likes girls or boys, has a general idea of whom he wants to someday have sex with.

There's a moment of curiosity, but Mello squashes it. How, he asks, do you want to do this?

Mello doesn't catch it, looking at some point on the wall above Near's head, but for a brief moment, there's a visible expression of sadness mixed with want and wistfulness on Near's face. It's quickly gone, however, and he answers, Mello can decide.

This isn't going to be any good, Mello warns, looking back down. Neither of us has any experience.

He doesn't add that sex between two enemies has no chance of being truly pleasurable, but he does think it.

Not answering, Near begins taking his pyjamas off.

Mello quickly strips his clothes off, hands shaking slightly. And then, when he's naked, he considers leaving. He's nineteen, and he's only kissed one person, and that was on a dare. It had lasted three seconds, and both mouths had remained firmly closed.

Once, he was teased mercilessly when he answered honestly that he wouldn't have sex until marriage. He was ten, then, and there had just been a special class about puberty and sexual development. Near, eight-years-old and considered too young, had been playing Solitaire when Mello and the other boys had walked by and heard the teasing.

He'd reached out and tugged on one of Matt's socks. Matt had stopped, grabbing Mello, and when Mello stopped, the others stopped. What if Mello wants to marry a boy, he'd inquired.

It was an interesting question, and some of the boys had scooted away, fearing Mello's wrath, others moving closer, curious.

Shrugging, Mello said, as if it were perfectly obvious, and to him, it was, Then, I'll marry one. Marriage wasn't a sacrament until the Middle ages. All it took was vows exchanged and a witness. As long as God recognises my marriage, I don't care about any government.

Now, naked, Near lays down on his stomach, head propped on a pillow.

Feeling vaguely queasy, Mello moves over to the bed, sitting down. Near is smaller than he looks in pyjamas and is pale all over. Mello wants to win the battle, wants to be proven worthy of being L, but the worst he's ever done in physical terms is shove Near aside. Not hard enough to leave a mark or knock the smaller boy over, just hard enough that Near automatically moved out of the way. He's aimed a gun at him once, but Mello learned years ago that there's a difference between shooting someone and laying a hand on them. Having a gun aimed at them is worst for most people, but Mello understands Near well enough to realise that to Near, an aimed but not shot gun is not harmful.

Long ago, Mello learned how to hurt innocent people.

He's never had to deal with any Wammy, though. When he was still innocent, no one touched a Wammy, including Near, and got away with it. He had genuinely laughed when Near stumbled in one day, bloody nose, blackening eye, but that night, he still made sure the boys who did it knew better than to ever do it again.

Turning his head, Near says, There will be some discomfort, but unless Mello makes an effort to, he won't hurt me.

Scowling at Near's perceptiveness, Mello squeezes some of the lubricant out on a finger and begins opening Near up, being careful not to push too hard.

When it finally happens, Mello comes much faster than he would have wanted, and Near doesn't come, at all. Despite those facts, Mello feels a rush of adrenaline along with a worrying surge of affection for Near.

He tosses the tied up condom on the floor and shifts; Near's hand shoots out, wrapping around Mello's wrist. Stay, Mello, he says, tone surprisingly firm.

Alright, Mello says, automatically. Then, still bemused, I'll stay until sunrise.

Carefully, Near rolls over on his back, and then, tugs Mello's body on top of his. Mello feels Near, still hard, and he reaches down, fingers teasing Near into climax.

He makes a move to get up, find something to clean them, but Near's hand is still wrapped around his wrist, and the smaller boy tightens his grip. Not enough to hurt Mello, but enough to make it clear Mello won't leave this general area until sunrise.

Okay, Mello says, still feeling a little hazy, I'll stay on the bed.

Mello will stay on me, Near corrects, tone sharper and more emotive than normal.

So, Mello stays, laying on top of a dozing Near until the sun rises.

When it does, he gets up, Near letting out a soft sigh.

Mello has sex at age nineteen. He knows that. What he doesn't know is that he gets in one final victory. When he dies a month later, he takes away the one person who can give Near true, honest, complete pleasure.


End file.
